


I'm not a monster

by MasterTickleBack



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Prison, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-21 21:24:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8260898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MasterTickleBack/pseuds/MasterTickleBack
Summary: A fanfic based on a free interpretation on the MV for Monster and the time going prior and after. They say prison changes you. Jiyong could sign for that. He had started out a young high school student with the perfect life, only to have everything ripped away from him. He killed his best friend, and he lost his friends that same moment. That meant he had to make new ones. And prison makes you get involved with the wrong kinds.





	

Jiyong felt familiar fingers slot together with his own as he headed from his class in Korean literature. The warm sensation against his palm had his lips curl into a content smile. Like any other Thursday, Jiyong would go the opposite way than any other student from his class. Seungri would send him a knowing look before he would head to lunch. Jiyong on the other hand would head towards the science department and turn left just before getting there. The emergency exit provided a narrow space between two departments in secrecy. He would slowly walk down the small space until he would feel a hand in his own. The careful touch would make him stop and turn to face the newcomer. The warm smile on his boyfriend’s face would make him smile impossibly wider.

“Seunghyun.” He would breathe and use the soft link of their hands to pull him closer and their lips would meet gently, right between the chemistry classroom and English literature.

“How was class?” Seunghyun asked when their kiss ended.

“Not as good as kissing you.” Jiyong replied smoothly, causing Seunghyun to blush.

“You’re disgusting.” The younger said, but didn’t seem to mind too much. Jiyong made that assumption on the fact Seunghyun’s fingers were curling on the back of his neck and pulled him in for yet another kiss.

“We should go find Seungri. He can’t argue requiring three seats for much longer.” Jiyong pointed out and stepped away, keeping their fingers connected between them still.

“Through the halls or should we walk along the soccer field?” Seunghyun asked. Without answering directly, Jiyong brought him out of the narrow space, just wide enough for them to walk side by side and ono the open lawn surrounding most of the school. Once out in the open, their hands parted to avoid questions and looks from the other students.

They were walking side by side when they entered the lunch hall and spotted Seungri lounging across three whole seats, food stuffed into his cheeks as he talked animatedly with Daesung and Youngbae sitting across from him. Jiyong basically ran through the cafeteria to wrap his arms around Daesung’s shoulders.

“Dae~!” He cooed at him, earning him a laugh from everyone else around the table. Well, everyone but the victim of his affection, who handed him a light hit on the top of his head.

“Ouch.” Jiyong complained and rubbed the top of his head before he pushed Seungri’s leg off the chair and slid into his seat.

“Serves you right.” Daesung cackled earning another round of laughter from around the table.

Seunghyun approached the table carrying two trays of lunch like so many times before. It had become a habit. Jiyong would bring food for two in his lunch box whenever there were enough leftovers and Seunghyun would get them both lunch whenever he hadn’t brought any.

Their relationship was a secret. Only their small group of friends knew about them. Jiyong couldn’t be happier. He had gotten the most supportive friends and boyfriend. No one questioned when Jiyong announced he was going to the literature department, only to pass it and Seunghyun following five steps behind, supposedly heading to the science department. They all knew the two were sneaking off to get a last kiss before classes would start again. They also appreciated the lack of public display of affection. As much as they liked their friends, Jiyong knew they were happy they remained mature about their relationship too. They didn’t stick to each other for group work and they had other friends outside their small group and each other too. And that was fine. Jiyong at least enjoyed a day away from Seunghyun once in a while, but still texted him at night and told him to sleep well, have sweet dreams and of course the daily declaration of love. They made room for it all without being glued to one another twenty-four seven. They seemed like a perfect couple, and they were. Everyone, including themselves would say if they knew. But like with everything else perfect, forever is only for fairytales.

 

Jiyong stepped hard on the break, feeling the ASP work under his foot. Each vibrated in the pedal in perfect sync with his heart. All too fast, yet at the same time, everything seemed to pass in slow-motion. The hand, previously on Seunghyun’s thigh (higher than recommended in traffic) was now clutching the steering wheel tightly, jerking at the cheap plastic padding on the wheel. The car swerved out of balance, wheels shrieking and skidding along the asphalt. The momentum was too strong and the street was wet. Jiyong was well aware he was going only a little above the speed limit, but it was all too late. A heavy thump sounded on the front, followed by a series of random banging on the hood, the loud sound of glass cracking, a scream, and more sounds of limbs hitting the roof of the car before complete silence aside from the rain drumming peacefully on the roof. It was a painful opposite to the horror that had just gone down. The car was holding still, the headlights lighting up in front of them. It was completely rid of life, and Jiyong could basically hear Death breathing behind them. He looked o the side, facing Seunghyun’s shocked and horrified face, just as his chest heaved and another scream filled the air. Everything happened in slow motion and too fast all at once. For a second, Jiyong considered driving away, pretending it never happened. But Seunghyun was already out. The car door slammed and Jiyong had no option to follow. He had only had the chance to open the door before his ears were filled with a traumatizing scream followed by a mantra og an all too familiar name.

He didn’t register what happened next. He was punched repeatedly and vision was filled with the devastated face of his boyfriend.

“You killed him! Youngbae” You fucking killed him, you monster!” It was the same sentence repeated again and again. Without knowing how out when things happened, Jiyong was surrounded by blue flashes of lights. Firetrucks, ambulances, police cars, you name it. They were all there. It all happened in a blur. The body of his best friend was lifted into the ambulance, blurry figures surrounding him. Jiyong turned his eyes to look at his boyfriend. He wasn’t looking at him but was gently guided to another ambulance while Jiyong felt cold metal settle around his wrist. Without blinking, the scenery changed from flashing lights of blue to to the inside of a car. None too gently he was shoved over and a man sat in next to him. No one spoke a word during the ride. At the police station Jiyong handed over all his belongings, changed to an orange suit and confessed to all charges. He explained what had happened. He hated how the police used Youngbae’s physical state to pressure him into admitting more. But he already told everything. Down to the detail of what had distracted him.

He had killed a man. And lost all of his friends all at once. No one but his mother had paid him a visit. Jiyong wrote all of his friends out of his life including his boyfriend.

He didn’t cry. Hadn’t cried. Not a single tear had left his eyes since the accent. He didn’t deserve to cry. Whatever tears he didn’t cry he could give to those deserving. He sent Daesung a thought. He knew Daesung had a crush on Youngbae, but hadn’t dared pursue him. Everyone knew Youngbae was straight, but didn’t make Daesung’s love any less and his loss any easier.

With his head hanging low, Jiyong entered the court, flanked by two policemen. The verdict had been made. He was sentenced three years in jail with the option of getting out after 30 months for good behavior. That was the mercy he was shown for the accident.

 

They say prison changes you. Jiyong could sign for that. He had started out a young high school student with the perfect life, only to have everything ripped away from him. He killed his best friend, and he lost his friends that same moment. That meant he had to make new ones. And prison makes you get involved with the wrong kinds. He got himself a tattoo of brotherhood and addicted to drugs. He started to smoke, not caring how anything came through the walls of the prison. Anal? Not anything he hadn’t tried. As the only one with any knowledge of gay sex, he became the slut of the building. Prisoners paid him with favors and drugs. Even guards caught him with his pants around his ankles and offered him cigarettes or a day out in return of an orgasm.

Jiyong made himself known in the prison for his ass and his way with the guards. His identity had gotten changed. He was no longer Jiyong, a high school student. No, inmates called him G-dragon. Just because he needed something cool. And Dragon just happened to fit him.

Once released, Jiyong spat on the pavement before he set his first free cigarette between his lips and scowled down at himself. How had he ever been comfortable in clothes like these? He looked like a fucking church boy. The pope’s favorite choir boy even. He flicked the cigarette bud onto the ground, blowing the smoke out his nose and started walking down the street. He couldn’t help but notice how not even his mother had come to pick him up he was released. He could feel the love.

 

 

He looked through his wallet and figured the card to be expired. He pulled his card out and turned it over in his hand. Just as he thought. He crossed the street and pulled a bike from its place and saddled up. Stupid policeman for thinking the police station would be the one place where he could leave his ride unlocked. He rode the bike through the city until he reached his bank and stepped inside. He got a number and waited patiently, glaring at the people throwing him a look. He couldn’t help but notice how everyone not staring at him were busy with their phones. He could rob the bank and only the workers would notice unless their numbers were called. He didn’t though. He had someone to find before he could go back. Thought he would rather not go back. He wanted the free life. Once his number came up, Jiyong withdrew some money and requested a new card too.

From the bank he went straight for the mall. He definitely needed new clothes. An hour later he was standing front of Seunghyun’s apartment wearing a pair of baggy jeans and an even looser shirt. He had to thank google for finding Seunghyun’s apartment. He knocked the door and waited. He had spent the last many months planning a speech for his ex, but now that he stood in the prospect of facing him, he remembered nothing. The door opened and a beautiful man opened the door.

“Hello?” He greeted him. Jiyong suddenly remembered what it was like to be in high school.

“Hello. Is Seunghyun home?” He asked, bowing softly in greeting.

“Who is it?” Came a stranger’s voice, but the face was nothing but familiar.

“Jiyong?” He asked surprised. Surprised enough to pale in front of him.

“Seunghyun.” Jiyong said, loving how familiar it sounded yet so different.

“What are you doing here?” Seunghyun asked, making room for the woman to enter the apartment again when she realized she wouldn’t be introduced.

“It’s been a while since we met. Your face looks good. You got prettier, you were always beautiful to me.” Jiyong said, unable to keep his eyes from scanning over the other’s body appreciatively.

“But today you look different.” Seunghyun countered. “You look cold, emotionless.” He pointed out. Jiyong couldn’t help the feeling of pitied. It was clear from the other’s look that he pitied him. Jiyong actually felt small in the eyes of the other. He took a deep breath and tried to get out of the feeling and change the subject to something else. Even if he had so much he wanted to ask him after his release, he couldn’t stand the look of pity.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Seunghyun told him and guided the other man into the house. The stranger disappeared around a corner and Jiyong and Seunghyun were left to talk. The way Seunghyun stood tall in front of him, with his life under control and apparently a boyfriend to accompany him, Jiyong felt small. He desperately wanted to ask Seunghyun a lot of questions, Jiyong knew he was right.

“I ca…” Jiyong was cut off by the other. He didn’t do it with words though. He stepped out on the front porch along with Jiyong, letting the air mess up his un-styled yet perfect hair.

“You shouldn’t have come. You shouldn’t be here.” Seunghyun said, repeating himself. Jiyong was mesmerized by everything him. He thought he had toughened up in prison, but he was right back to his high school years, heart pounding in his chest. He still loved him. A tear left his eye. Jiyong hadn’t even noticed he was crying. Embarrassed and ashamed – guilty as ever – Jiyong walked away. Left without another word.

 

Should he try to win Seunghyun back? Or would that be too ridiculous? He was sitting on a bench, coffee in his hand and staring blankly ahead. His thoughts had wandered back to the last time he had seen Seunghyun. How he hadn’t thought anything as Seunghyun trembled and took a couple of steps back. The fear and the hatred he had seen in his dark orbs, aimed at him. It was obvious he was scared. Yet still to that day, Seunghyun was the moon that made Jiyong go crazy. Seunghyun should have known. That he didn’t do it on purpose. That it was an accident. He wasn’t a monster. Isn’t a monster. But if Seunghyun had chosen to throw him away, Jiyong might as well die.

Back then, when no matter what happens, let’s be forever. When we’re sad, when we’re happy, let’s go till the end. Had been said. The after, the words changed. If he had known, he would have loved Seunghyun as his last day.

Life went on. Even for Jiyong. Without Seunghyun. It wasn’t nice. It was like an imprisonment for life. It was like an extinction from the world to the point where he’d go crazy. Knowing Seunghyun was alive was like living with a chronic disease, a repetition of pain, a lingering attachment in his heart. He could feel how people of the world had turned their backs on him, how the corners of their eyes had been turned up, but Jiyong could live through all that. The greatest pain to him was the fact Seunghyun had become the same as them.

 

Sirens started sounding above Jiyong’s head as hands desperately pulled collections of money into his brought along bag. He cursed under his breath and dared stay no longer. Bringing with him everything he had, Jiyong left the store, through the broken window and ran down the streets, searching for darker places. Breathless, Jiyong headed into an alley, zig zagging through the smaller streets between buildings, stripping off his mask and took off his outer shirt and stuffed it into the bag along with his money. He leaned against a wall, panting heavily as he heard the sirens driving past him on the main street. He leaned his head back on the brick wall behind him and closed his eyes. Now it was only a question about before he would get caught. Jiyong knew he had to do something. He steeled himself and prepared to follow the alley out to its mouth to the open. He pulled out his phone and opened the browser, he pursed his lips thoughtfully and tried something he never thought he would do. He searched the name of his high school friend. With a few added search words, Jiyong was guided to a facebook profile that held a number. Holding his breath, Jiyong called him.

“Hello?” Jiyong nibbled his lower lip. It didn’t sound like his friend. The voice was groggy and he had obviously woken the other up.

“Seungri?” He asked hesitantly.

“Yeah, who’s there?”

“It’s me. Jiyong.”

Jiyong waited. And he kept waiting. He pulled his phone from his ear to check if the call had ended. It was still going. “Hello?” He called into the speaker. It took a while but a rustling sounded.

“Kwon Jiyong?” The man questioned and Jiyong nodded, only to remember he couldn’t be seen and replied with a breath of ‘yeah’.

“You’ve got a nerve to call.” Seungri said and more rustling sounded. “Why are you calling?” He asked and Jiyong took a deep breath. Maybe it was a bad idea to call Seungri.

“I need your help.” Jiyong finally admitted. “I need a place to stay, just for tonight. Or what’s left of it.” Jiyong said, desperately wanting to get off the streets. The sleepy laughter on the other end of the line confirmed him of his assumption. It was a bad idea.

“Why, Jiyong?” Seungri asked once he had stopped laughter. Jiyong considered hanging up on him before deciding against it. He was kind of desperate.

“Just pick me up and I’ll explain everything.” Jiyong hissed as the sirens approached him. Seungri had the decency to laugh again, this time louder and more genuine.

“Playing with the cops again, I see.” He commented and Jiyong had heard what he needed to hear. He hung up on his childhood best friend and cursed under his breath as he pocketed his phone.

He walked with his head held in the streets, avoiding looking suspicious to anyone. Several times the police drove right past him. He pulled out his phone again. Looking like that he would look like anyone else out that night. Well any person in the world with a smartphone and cellular data he had noticed. He pretended to be texting, browsing, and texting some more.

 

Jiyong’s heart stopped beating altogether. He could see headlights approach him slowly from behind as his shadow gradually grew more defined and longer. He swallowed thickly, heart pounding in his chest as he tried to ignore the inevitable. He was getting caught. Again. The car pulled up next to him, rolling slowly by his side for a few steps. The windows were rolled down. Jiyong knew because he could hear a soft song playing from the car’s radio. Jiyong resumed walking. Now that he thinks about it, that wasn’t the best way to stay unnoticed by, but he couldn’t change his behavior now.

“Aren’t you getting in?” The voice surprised him. His head snapped to the side, quick enough to make his neck pop a couple of places.

“What the hell are you getting here? How did you find me?” Jiyong asked Seungri as he grinned at him from inside his car, glancing in front of himself to avoid driving into something.

“Picking you up. Follow the police. Wasn’t that hard.” He replied and stopped the car, reaching over the car to push the door open for Jiyong. “Did you want to crash for the night?” He asked, watching Jiyong expectantly. Jiyong weighed his options carefully. Seungri had laughed at him just now. But then again, with the police kissing your ass, being butt hurt probably wasn’t the best idea either. He got inside and placed the bag with his goods between his feet as he buckled up.

“Thank you.” He said finally as they drove. Seungri didn’t answer, and Jiyong didn’t expect him to. Jiyong knew Seungri didn’t approve of what he was doing – and had done. They hadn’t talked since he had killed Youngbae so many years back. Seungri was a stranger to him, yet he drove out at ass thirty in the morning to pick him up between police cars with something he knew couldn’t be legal in his bag. And Jiyong didn’t complain and he certainly didn’t question it. They drove in silence until Seungri parks the car in front of an apartment building.

“When we come up we’re going to bed. I have work tomorrow but I expect you to be here when I come back. You owe me an explanation.” He said and got out, leaving Jiyong with no option but to agree. He couldn’t argue with it now that Seungri was missing after all. He picked up his bag and followed the other out and inside the apartment building. The silence between them was deafening, but no one made a move to break it. Jiyong had no right to ask and Seungri didn’t. It was a silent ride in the elevator. They didn’t speak, but Jiyong caught Seungri looking at him in the mirror a few times as he dared himself a look.

The elevator stopped and Seungri stepped out, followed close behind by Jiyong. He unlocked his apartment and went inside, the older still hot on his heels. He looked around the other’s apartment. It was no cheap apartment. Quite on the contrary. It was a luxury building in the middle of the city, and no furniture appeared to originate from Ikea. Quite on the contrary, every piece of furniture looked to be worth several months of pay for Jiyong – in the job he had before he ended up in prison. He toed off his shoes before he got too deep into the apartment and moved on. He looked around. Again. Standing without purpose in the middle of the living room. It was insane. Had Seungri won the lottery in the years he had spent in prison? He looked at the other with slightly wide eyes, his backpack falling heavily to the floor.

“It’s been a while.” He said, the question forgotten again. He could always ask later.

“I think so too. I wanted to come visit you, but I promised Daesung’s parents not to talk to you in prison.” The words stung Jiyong in a way he wasn’t keen on listening to. Daesung’s parents had asked that? “But I couldn’t leave you alone when you called me now.” He said and approached Jiyong with determination. Curious to see what he wanted, Jiyong stood his ground only to watch the other turn off to the side and into the kitchen.

“Hungry? Thirsty?” He asked as he looked into the fridge for things for them to have.

“Just thirsty. Preferably for something containing percentages.” Jiyong said and flopped onto the expensive leather couch and waited for Seungri to come back to him with the drinks he had decided to go for. Jiyong could only smile pleased when a bottle of soju and two cans of beer were brought to the coffee table along with two shots glasses.

“That’s the kind of thing I’m talking about.” Jiyong said and rubbed his hands together in anticipation for the burn down his throat. He couldn’t deny his initial disappointment of being handed a beer at first, but he hid it from Seungri. He should just be happy he was taking him in, letting him sleep free of the cops’ search torches.

“What do you have in the bag?” Jiyong’s eyes darted towards the bag he had left on the floor and shrugged.

“Money?” He said, opening the can in his hands to gulp down half of it.

“How much?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t count.” He admitted as he watched Seungri open his own and gulped a couple of swigs. Boring.

“Wanna count?” Seungri asked him, making Jiyong look at the other in surprise. He hadn’t expected the other to want anything to do with the money he had managed to get a hold of.

“Why?” He asked, sipping his beer a couple of times, eyes closed in on the younger next to him.

“Because I want to know how much you can offer.” Seungri said, eyes unwavering from Jiyong’s.

“Offer?” The older questioned, feeling a tightening feeling around his chest. Seungri helped him for money? How could he have been that blind? “I’m sorry. I…I have to go.” He said, standing up from his seat on the couch. He had thought there would be just a little friendship from the younger as he drove all the way there to pick him up but no. It was all for the money. He avoided Seungri’s face and picked up his bag from the floor and swung it on his shoulders. Without any sound leaving his former friend’s lips, Jiyong disappeared out of the room. He wasn’t proud of his actions, but he needed the money to survive. After having pulled on his shoes, Jiyong reached for the doorknob and opened the door. He didn’t get it opened much though. Just as the door was open wide enough for him to slip through, Seungri was slamming his hands on the wooden surface and shut it before Jiyong could escape the apartment.

“You aren’t leaving. Not because of that.” Seungri breathed as his chest pressed against Jiyong’s shoulder.

“Not because of what?” Jiyong asked, not turning to face the other. He’d rather not.

“Because of you being a pussy and getting offended by the slightest misunderstanding.” Seungri said and pressed the door shut, pulling Jiyong away from the opening. Jiyong didn’t follow willingly. He was curious as to what the other wanted to say to explain to him. Seungri wasn’t getting any of his money. That was for sure.

“Sit.” Seungri ordered and placed his bag down on the floor again, giving Jiyong a press on his shoulder, making him sit down.

“For one, I don’t want your money. What I said came out wrong. As you can probably see from my apartment, I don’t need money what so ever. I could quit today and still ensure my next three generations live without worry.” He pointed out and sat down next to Jiyong. “So, it’s definitely not for the money.” He explained and Jiyong only looked at him again.

“What is it then you want me to offer?” He asked. If It wasn’t money he was after, what was it then? He didn’t understand the other’s motives anymore. If it wasn’t money, then what was it?

“Your company.” Came the simple answer. It took a couple of seconds before the words settled with Jiyong and he looked at the younger closely.

“My company?” He questioned. “Why?”

“Because I once knew you. You aren’t here for my money. You’ve got your own. I, on the other hand, have everything I need in my life, but someone to share it with.” Seungri explained. Jiyong looked at him for a couple of seconds before he burst out laughing.

“You want me to be your personal slut?” He asked, voice filled with amusement. He didn’t give Seungri a chance to answer though. Why would he? Being a slut was what he did best. “What makes you think you can handle me?” He asked instead, crossing one leg over the other as he looked at the other.

“I think that’s for me to ask.” Seungri said, avoiding Jiyong completely otherwise. Jiyong didn’t like being ignored and huffed lightly.

“I’ve taken thugs bigger than you in jail and tamed them all to be my bitches.” He said, barking out a laugh.

“Yeah? Might be your bitches, but they are my obedient lap-dogs.” Seungri countered. Jiyong couldn’t keep the smirk off his face.

“What do I get in return?” He asked, wanting to know what he was in for.

“Protection. You live here. You can do as you please. Only requirement is that you’re home at night, naked on my bed for my use. When I’m done with you, you leave the room and go to your own quarters.” He said and pointed to a room in front of them, the door closed.

“My own room?” Jiyong asked and stood up. Seungri didn’t say anything and let Jiyong go. He took a drink of his beer as Jiyong approached the room. The older could feel the other’s eyes on him as he did. He pushed the door open, the room coming to him as if straight out of a magazine.

“What do you get from this?” He asked, wanting to know what Seungri would get out of it.

“Inspiration.” He said simply. Jiyong turned around and raised a brow at him.

“What for?” He demanded to know.

“Does it matter? You get a place to stay, a place to hide if you will, sex every night and food on the table.” Seungri pointed and Jiyong nodded thoughtfully.

“And the rent?” He asked. It was almost too good to be true.

“Sex.” Came the answer. Definitely too good to be true.

“What’s the catch?” He asked, turning to look at the younger with a stern gaze.

“You can’t say no to sex.” Jiyong almost had to snort at that. Like he would do that.

 

Jiyong tossed the food on the floor, staring at Seungri with eyes burning with fury. It was the easiest way of concealing his feelings. He was hurt. Why, he didn’t know. He was wandering dangerous territories with his host and fuck buddy. His eyes fell on the drawings in front of him. Portraits of himself, naked and with marks everywhere. He could tell it was himself. He recognized the collection of moles on his back. He secretly was impressed that Seungri had remembered them, but it didn’t matter. There wasn’t a face on the drawing, hidden by the hair, but Jiyong was positive it was of him. He did everything in his power to keep his shaking unnoticed and hidden from the other. He didn’t want him to know. Having lived with him for six months he was reaching a point he would call well trained. He had a control over his body that made him able to receive whip lashes without flinching and cumming without a sound. He had practiced and Seungri was proud of him. He had said so himself. His money was still in a bag in his bedroom untouched and he was living entirely on Seungri’s income, and he didn’t mind. Didn’t mind until now. He realized he was Seungri’s muse at his job. Seungri was an artist. An artist who didn’t work at home. Now he realized he himself was Seungri’s canvas, sketch paper, and he spent hours every night drawing anew. He flipped through the pages, each drawing of himself, portraying a new position, a new mark or a new anything that made the drawing different from the previous. He placed a hand on the first page and glared up at the man he had started calling master along the way.

“How could you?” He gritted out, hand curling into a fist on the paper, crumbling it below his fingers. “This is me. On every single one of them.” He said before he forced himself to breathe deeply. He was just on the verge of exploding. Seeing how Seungri didn’t answer his question, Jiyong stepped over the pot of spilled kimchi stew and stomped towards his room when a firm grip grabbed his arm and pressed him against a firm frame. Jiyong did not blush. He had often been in the man’s intimate sphere, but never both fully clothed and never with him panting heavily. Seungri didn’t even seem slightly affected. Instead he seemed to mock him. Rubbing it in his face just how collected he was when Jiyong was that close to losing it.

“I own you.” Came his simple answer, warm breath fanning over Jiyong’s face. The older gritted his teeth tightly, jerked his arm out of his hold and took a step back.

“You don’t own me. I let you use me.” He countered, eyes thundering at the younger. Seungri didn’t even blink. He only stepped forward, slowly but steadily backing Jiyong up against a wall. Feeling the firm surface behind and the seemingly firmer frame in front of him, Jiyong saw no way out. Seungri’s hands collided with the hands on either side of his head. Jiyong almost jerked in surprise when the hands collided with the wall beside him. Keyword being almost. Seungri didn't scare him like that. Like that, he knew how what to expect from the master. Like this he knew Seungri wouldn't pry at his feelings. Keeping him to the physical aspect of their relationship and Jiyong felt safe. Safe and secure, and getting to focus on that, might take his mind off what the hell was knocking and playing ping pong with his brain cells.

“I don’t know what the hell is wrong with you.” Seungri said, breath fanning across his face.

"Neither do I. I just know...It hurt." He admitted, letting himself reduce to a more submissive stance under Seungri’s unrelenting stare and being trapped like that. It was nice. It was nice to feel someone take the lead and guide him "I'm sorry." He apologized.

“Don’t raise your voice at me. You agreed to be my inspiration. Here you see the results. These are drawings. Sketches. They aren’t for anyone to see but the two of us.”

Relieved with the explanation he felt Seungri’s breath against his lips, while he silently prayed for no kiss to come his way. He knew it would fuck his mind up more than he could handle. He considered turning away, but the hold on his chin prevented him from it. Now it was all about emptying his mind and let the other control him. His body. It felt nice to toss the reigns to someone else and trust them to lead him. The master breathed against his lips before pressing his lips against Jiyong’s.

People talked about fireworks in their first kiss. For Jiyong it didn’t even begin to cover the feeling he was having. It wasn’t his first kiss ever, but it was his first kiss from the master and everything he had experienced in the past month suddenly made sense. He was in love with Seungri. He did his absolute best not to kiss back, simply let himself receive and not give away too much.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Seungri said when he finally pulled back from the short lip lock that lasted entirely too long and too short all at once for Jiyong.

“I love you.” He said, not able to stop the words from leaving his lips. They both stood still, Seungri looking at Jiyong and Jiyong looking at the floor, attempting to hide his flushing cheeks.

“You love me?” Seungri asked. The disbelief in Seungri’s voice could almost be cut with a knife. Jiyong only nodded in response. He was in love with Seungri and it was a terrible territory to wander with his childhood friend. Two fingers lifted his chin with an insistent force, making Jiyong tilt his head up. A pair of lips claimed his own again, this time more insisting than prior. Jiyong threw caution to the wind and kissed him back. The older felt hands wrap around his wrists and placed his arms around his neck. It was the first time Jiyong was allowed to touch without asking for permission first.

 

Bodies were fused, sweat-slick and wrecked. Marked by red and blue two bodies moved in unison. Their breaths mingled together in the barely broken kiss as they both panted for their lives. It was the first time Jiyong hadn’t been given orders. He was guided but free to move. The marks on Jiyong’s body for once didn’t come from a whip or flogger. This time it was from Seungri’s mouth, marking blue at his neck instead of a striking red at his ass. For once he wasn’t tied on his knees as Seungri took him behind but was able to open his eyes and watch his face contort in pleasure. His dick was laying heavily against his stomach, untouched and begging for release. Each thrust inside him sent him closer to his blissful euphoria, but he wasn’t going without Seungri. He held back, using the one thing he had learned in his months of training; withholding an orgasm and only release on command.

“C-close!” He warned nonetheless. His voice was higher pitched than he had expected. He had never been left disappointed with Seungri’s sex, but this time it was different. Instead of the hard, painful pleasure he had found himself receiving for months, he felt love for the first time. Painful strikes and absolute control had been replaced by gentle caresses and whispered hushed declarations of love. Seungri kissed him deeply, albeit shortly, before he pulled back, bracing himself and moved inside him a little faster and a little harder. Jiyong saw stars as he worked to hold back. It was basically impossible. He hadn’t felt like this before, feeling like it was releasing from his heart more than his dick. It was way more intense than anything he had ever experienced. His body was wound taut like a bow, his spine arched painfully beneath the younger and his nails were digging into Seungri’s shoulders, pulling long streaks in their wakes.

“Cum for me.” Seungri’s voice rung in his head as he let himself fall. He saw white behind his lids, flashing with red with each beat of his erratic heartbeat. The cry of Seungri’s name that had left his lips, still echoed through the walls of the bedroom when Jiyong felt himself be filled up with the master’s release and he felt absolutely spent and sated unlike the many other times they fucked.

 

“You’re not a monster. I never thought you were. No matter what Seunghyun told you, you aren’t.” Seungri muttered as they had curled up in each other’s arms. For once, Jiyong wasn’t asked to leave. Instead he had curled up against Seungri’s chest and was lazily tracing patterns on his ribs.

“I’m not a monster?” Jiyong asked, looking up at Seungri.

“You’re not a monster.” He repeated himself. “You didn’t kill him on purpose. I forgive you.” He muttered against Jiyong’s forehead. And Jiyong began to forgive himself.

**Author's Note:**

> So this took me forever to write and was written for a writing contest. I didn't make the deadline though so I'm posting this without credit to the contest. If the host of the writing contest allows it in, it'll be credited definitely.  
> Until then, I can say I am not entirely happy with this. I feel like I'm changing writing style like a few times throughout the story. I guess I can play it off as being where something life changing happens in Jiyong's life, but honestly it was every time I served another writer's block with it.  
> Uhm, yeah.. Leave constructive feedback :)


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